


Where is your Heart

by Elie



Category: A Place to Call Home (TV)
Genre: F/M, Father-Son Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Period Typical Attitudes, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, first chapter is George being a worried dad, lets be real its gonna be angsty up in here, periode accurate thoughts??? i guess?? Gino thinks thingsTM are sinful and it shows, second too, the third one is even darker
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:55:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23610409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elie/pseuds/Elie
Summary: soo in Quarantine™ i watched all the episodes for APTCH, and felt that there were some scenes that were missing aka this is short angsty moments i wished the show would've had, so; spoilers and READ THE TAGS because its darkchapter 1: George and James have a late night talk, around season 1chapter 2: George and Anna talk that night they get James from the hospital(next up: chapter 3: Gino arrives a little later, that day James contemplated drowning himself, and James has already jumped in)
Relationships: James Bligh & Anna Bligh, James Bligh & George Bligh
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	1. Late night talk

**Author's Note:**

> i have no beta, just an incredible need for there to be more angsty moments dealing with all that James went through

His son, his darling boy, tried to kill himself.

George pretends that it’s easy, that he can just ignore it and move on, that it’s all in the past. Inside of him though, where no one can see, it’s clawing at him, at his heart. The worry and the pain, it doesn’t want to go away, no matter how much he tries to suppress it. 

So, when rather late one night, he finds James sitting by himself in the kitchen, flask of bourbon in front of him, he feels his heart rate go into a much too high speed. His thoughts go a mile a minute, flickering through what could’ve happened, one horrible scenario to the next, wondering about what James is thinking - planning.

How is he supposed to deal with this? Emotions were never something he prided himself in knowing. 

“James, boy?” he hears himself say, as he steps into the room, leaning a hand against the counter.

James looks up, the glass with a few drops left twirling in his hand. He looks pale, maybe a little thin, now that George is really looking, but his eyes aren’t red so James hasn't been crying.

“Hello, father,” his son answers, a tired, and fake, smile dragging over his lips.

For another second, he stands there in the door, a traitorous strain of thoughts filling his mind about how to best escape this, pretend nothing is wrong. Then the fear, the one he’s been holding in for so long, that’s been coming and going in waves, hits him again. The fear that’s been there since he heard what had happened, almost happened, on the ship. 

He steps further in, towards the table. James looks at him, brows furrowed and lips lined tight, no longer smiling. He drags a chair out, the feet scraping against the wooden flooring, and it creaks when he sits down. 

“What’s going on?” he asks, when the silence has dragged on long enough to become thick and uncomfortable.

“Just.. thinking,” James says, letting the glass fall from his hand onto the table a few millimeters down with a low clink. 

Thinking. George almost feels sick, with his palms sweaty and his heart-rate still going thump thump thumpthumpthump, all too quick. He wonders if his mother’s heartsickness is hereditary. A worrying thought indeed. 

“You’re not..” he looks at his son as his words trails off, “you’re not.. you know,” he tries.

James looks a little confused, worrying his bottom lip, a habit he’s never managed to kick ever since he was a child.

Then dawning seems to fall over his face.

“No, no of course not!” James protests, leaning back in his chair with a shove, playing shocked but still letting humiliation show as his cheeks redden. “Why would you think that, I promised that..” James takes a deep breath, not looking at him, suddenly overly interested in the cupboards behind him. “That part of me, it’s over,” he promises, still not looking at George.

God. It’s so obviously a lie.

“Promises are easily broken, even if we don’t want them too,” he answers, “but I will hold you to this one. The.. the pain if you were too..,” he can’t even bring himself to say it, but this point, he needs to get it across.

“I don’t understand why you’re still talking about this, I said that - that’s it’s gone!” James says, upset and embarrassed, looking like he would rather do anything else than be right there. 

“Things like that - they don’t just disappear James!” he answers, because no matter how much he would like that to be true he knows it isn’t. 

“It did for me!” James says - no, James lies. “I now realise all the things I have to live for, Livvy, the baby, you guys..” he trails off, finally meeting his eyes. James looks a little wild, a little desperate, but thankfully, not gone over the edge. Not too far into the madness. It calms his heart a little. 

“Then why are you sitting here, late at night, all alone?” he inquiries, can’t help the resignation seeping into his voice. James looks at him, sharp and cold. Their eyes meet.

George isn’t sure what his son sees in his eyes, but it seems to calm him - the boy, always a boy in his eyes, it melts away some of the thick walls he seems to have built without George noticing.

“I’m.. a little worried,” his son confesses. 

“Oh, about what?” he tries so hard to sound calm, not to let any worry or overprotection take control and scare James away, but he isn’t sure he completely succedes.

“I - with all thats happening, and the baby..”

“Is there something wrong with the baby?” God. He doesn’t know if he can take that, if James can take that. There is already so much-

“No, no, the baby, it’s great, as far as I know. It’s just-” James takes a deep breath, “I’m just worried about how I’ll be as a father.” 

Oh. Oh. That George can deal with, that’s a problem he can fix, he can surely find some words to explain the all too scary feeling of realising you will have a child dependent on you for everything. For their whole life. He knows that feeling, so all too well. 

“James, everyone is scared when.. when faced with becoming a father for the first time,” he says, letting a smile fill his own face, “if anyone says any different, they’re lying through their teeth.”

It makes James chuckle, a real, low and rough one. He’s missed that, George realises. Missed this, them, being close. 

“You’ll make mistakes, they’ll get hurt and you’ll feel like all the world is falling around you, but - it’ll be okay. That’s just how it is. Pain and worry, they’ll drive you mad, have you lying awake at night thinking about them, but - but it’ll be worth it.” 

He takes a deep breath, feeling all too emotional suddenly, he hadn’t realised really how much feelings this would bring up. 

James doesn’t say anything, just looks at him, with honest wide eyes, and he takes it as a sign that he can continue. 

“It’ll be worth it because there will be so much love, so much care, small little hands grabbing yours, beautiful laughter filling the halls - there is nothing in this world that’s like it.”

James smiles wetly at him now, and suddenly he can’t bear it anymore, he can feel the prickling in his eyes and no, he won’t cry. He pushes himself up from the chair.

“I - I think I’ll retire now. You should too, get some good sleep,” he says, words rushing out, turning and leaving towards the door before James has the chance to say anything.

Still, at the door, as he is about to walk out, something makes him turn.

James is staring at the table, the glass again caught between his hands.

“And James,” he says, waiting until his son looks up. “I know that you’ll be great, any child would be lucky to have you as a father,” he promises, once again turning, running, before he can see James' expression or let any more emotions wallow up inside. The walk up to his bedroom goes much faster than usual, but for the first time in a long long time, he actually sleeps rather well, knowing that James will be okay; he has to be.


	2. A horse ride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George being a Dad, Anna being a good sister, both of them remembering another time James was hurt

“Father, do you remember that time James fell from his horse?” 

His daughter has been quiet, up until now of course. They’re in the sittingroom, just the two of them left. It seems like ages ago they went to that awful hospital and got James home, yet George knows it was only hours earlier. Carolyn and his mother is.. somewhere, he’s sure, fretting about, and Olivia, he assumes, is up with James.

“Do you?” his daughter brings him out of his thoughts again, reminding him of the question she had asked. He’s happy she’s talking to him, she’s been cold and crass all night. Not that he’s surprised, her betrayal and outraged over having been left out of all her brother’s troubles is as expected. 

“Of course I do,” he answers, finally, and dares to look up at her. She’s staring out in the air, eyes far away.

“I was so frightened,” she whispers, “even if it was just for a few seconds, after he fell, he was so quiet, I feared he was dead.” 

George remembers the day clearly, even now, years later. The fear Anna is talking about, it was much like how he had felt himself. 

It had been another nice summer day. Just.. a completely ordinary day. They were fixing the fence, James had gone to check on it with his horse - a beautiful one, that he had cared and loved for almost as much as Anna did hers.

George himself had just been stepping out to check on Anna - she was brushing her horse on the porch, enjoying the sun, and very capable to be on her own but still so incredibly young. It had been warm, but not too hot like it could sometimes get in Inverness. 

He’d heard the hooves against the ground before James even rode in. He knew his oldest enjoyed feeling the power of the horse under him, the wind in his hair, and it could surely be heard too. It had sometimes caused him worry, the way James so carelessly rode his horse. It had seemed that day was no different. 

Still, when he tries to remember he doesn’t know exactly what had happened that day. Perhaps the horse had been frightened by something as James rode in to the front of the house, or stumbled over a stone or a small steep in the road - horses have such frail feet.

What George did know, was that both James and the horse had come in a frenzy, and one second James had been upon the horse and the next second the both of them had been on the ground.

The horse had gotten up easily enough, surprisingly, while James.. his son had been left laid so awfully still on the ground. George hadn’t moved, had stood frozen to the ground, staring at his son’s fallen form. That was, until Anna’s awful terrified shrill had broken him out of the trance he had seemed to have fallen into.

Never before nor after had he ran down the stairs and crossed the porch as fast as he did that day, yet Anna, even if she had seemed just as far away as him, had been by James’ side before him. She’d kneeled down beside her brother, leaning over so George couldn’t see the boy’s face as he himself sat down in a similar fashion on the opposite side.

“Don’t - don’t move him, if his back is-,” he had managed to push out, as Anna looked up at him with scared eyes. 

“Father?” James murmured, and as George looked down at him he had been so relieved to see his son’s eyes blink open.

“James,” he’d breathed, “does anything hurt?” He could remember how he put his hands on James shoulders, to hold him still if he tried to move.

“M-my chest, and -,” James had started, but then he’d moved his arm, and his face scrunched up in pain, as a scream of pain left his mouth, “my - my arm, god,” the boy, teen really, had been holding back sobs, forcing words through his gritted teeth. 

Then a different sob to George’s side had reminded him of his daughter, who’d probably been even more scared than himself forced to watch her brother in such pain.

“Shh, shh,” he’d tried to hush James, before turning to his daughter, “Anna, run inside, have grandmother call Jack, says he needs to come now,” he could clearly remember telling her. The image of the look on her face, her wide eyes brimming with tears, was like burned into his mind.

“NOW, Anna!” he’d yelled, desperate to get the point across, so terrified for his son. The girl had jumped up then, taking a last glance at her brother before running inside, her summer dress flowing behind her. 

First then had he dared take a glance at James’ arm, still holding the teen down so he would not move and hurt himself again. It had been bended oddly, surely broken, even he could see that, but there had been no blood. He had expected that, scary bright red seeping into the gravel - but there had been none.

That was when he had remembered his son’s complaint about chest pain, and he hadn’t known what to do. Fear had taken him over as the realisation hit him like a train. He had absolutely no idea how to help his own son.

“Father, please, make it stop,” the teen, who had suddenly looked and sounded so incredibly young again compared to that very morning, had cried out. He’d been gasping for breath and it seemed like each one the teen actually managed to take just hurt him even more.

“Anna’s gone to fetch Jack, he’ll get you right as rain, my boy,” he’d promised before daring to ask, “how is your back?” 

George had been so conflicted at that moment. He had known he couldn’t move James, not before knowing his back was okay, but he had also wanted so badly to pull the boy into his arms and carry him to safety.

“I I don’t know, it’s just my chest,” James forced out, still in such obvious pain and all George wanted was to take it all away.

“James, I know it hurts but can you move your legs? Wiggle your toes?” he’d inquired, looking down at the boy’s feet.

“Y-yes,” James answered as he took another deep breath that just seemed to hurt. Still, George could remember relief filling him again as the boy’s boots moved from one site to another, shaking and jerking in a controlled manner. “It’s - it’s not too bad,” James breathed then, and George knew he would’ve scoffed at the teens endless try at being brave if he hadn’t been so damned scared.

“I’d never seen you so scared before, I think,” Anna says, bringing him out of the almost trance he felt like being in as he remembered the so clear memory. “You always tried shielding us, especially after mom.. I was so upset when I came running in, grandmother thought James was already dead. Thank god her heart was better back then,” Anna’s try at joking falls flat, the seriousness of both the past and the now too heavy.

“I never wanted.. All we went through, with what happened to your mother.. To see James like that, there’s few times I’ve been as scared as that,” he confesses, staring at the wall above the firewall when he can’t take looking at her any longer. 

“Yet you had no problem abandoning James to be poked, prodded and what’s worse,” he hears her say, voice sharp. It feels like someone is squeezing his heart. He hears the sound of her taking a sharp breath in.

“I’m sorry, I’m still upset about being kept on the outside, and.. and how he’s been treated, I can’t forgive that just yet. But I shouldn’t be too harsh, since you did bring him home to us again,” she says, words coming fast, like she just wants to get them over with. 

“I.. I understand, it is hard.. to see someone we love, and I do love James,” he looks at her then, empashing his last words, “it’s hard to see someone we love in such a state.”

“I never thought I would see him worse off than that day on the horse, but.. today, he looked truly broken and.. it terrified me,” Anna’s voice wavers. 

George pushes himself up from the chair then, and finds himself walking over to his little girl. He puts a hand on her shoulder, squeezing a little, letting her know he is there without coming too close to her - he knows she’s still hurt, angry on her brothers behalf and angry for being kept out of the family business.

“He’ll bounce back, we’ll help him recover like Jack came over and fixed his arm that time,” he says, willing his voice to be steady and true, “and remember the chest pain we were so worried about? It went away, it just came from having the wind knocked out of him. He’s just had the wind knocked out of him a bit more harshly this time, but it’ll come back to him.”

Anna reaches up, placing her hand over his still laying on her shoulder.

“Yes, it will, we’ll make sure of it.”


End file.
